Rosemary

Sometimes I feel convinced
that a city is a result
of a massive explosion that is
the conglomeration of
so many lives.
And everywhere I look,
I find Rosemary;
I HATE Rosemary.

People spend entirely too much time
building fronts and
spinning lies.
It’s really no wonder
the infectious disease that’s
eating souls alive is named:
Isolation.
And everywhere I look,
I find Rosemary;
I HATE Rosemary.

It’s funny how the
bright lights dim and
we let people pass us by
without even the slightest desire
to KNOW them.
And everywhere I look,
I find Rosemary;
I HATE Rosemary.

We play with numbers,
we play with words,
we play with future’s presentation.
Spin around and
SEE yourself:
what is it
that you’re missing?
And everywhere I look,
I find Rosemary;
I HATE Rosemary.

Don’t be fooled by
what the ‘experts’ say -
when you know you’re
falling apart,
then you are.
And everywhere I look,
I find Rosemary;
I HATE Rosemary.

Permission

I would never even know
if you were thinking
of me.
You are your confounded
silly smile
are stuck in my thoughts.


I don't remember
giving you permission to
be in my head.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Writers Curse

I feel as if I've
spent half my life
sitting in a porch
with a notebook in my lap.
I'm not sure what it is
about porches and raining days,
but both of them are
environments for
writing out my now-heart.

Today I feel as
harsh as the wood grain,
pricking and snagging and
remarkably unbeautiful.
Most days I feel
like a sunflower;
today I feel more
like the stem.

I can't explain my mood
any more than I can
explain why I let
those fool-words hurt me.
I guess I'm just
lacking color
when I'm usually
soaked through with it.

Can someone please show me again
how to forget to be
grey.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A Grand Ball

A gown of pure
FREEDOM
is what You have
given me to wear
as I dance with
You.

Today
I burned the dress
that I once wore,
the skirts were heavy with
unforgiveness, dependence,
silence, fear, avoidance -
CHAINS.

You've given me FREEDOM,
in its greatest purity:
unmixed,
uncompromised.

As I stepped into this new gown,
so light and soft and sweet,
I felt my beauty increase
as my heart longed only
to be absolutely
lovely in brokenness
for YOU.

Dance with me
sweet Lover of my soul,
wrap me in Your arms.
I never want to
miss a step
in this grand ball
for Your glory.

My Family

I've been sitting here for 20 minutes
typing out shards of pieces of
descriptions of people who
color my life.
But I can't settle.
I know too many beautiful people
with too many wonderful things
to attempt to capture.

I guess this is
writers ADD.

I'm in a room with golden walls
with my brothers and sisters
who are laughing,
singing,
dancing,
doing life together.

I love these people.

And I'm astounded by the
family resemblance:
Dominican,
Argentine,
African,
Mexican,
black hair,
brown hair,
blonde.

But looking face-to-face,
we're obviously related.
We are one group,
one family.

I can't wait to do
great things
with them.
I can't wait to
see us change.

Look out central Texas:
HERE WE COME.

Strength Training

This should have absolutely

BROKEN ME

beyond a visible,

hopeful repair.

I praise You,

my Beautiful God,

for how far You have

taken me!

The initial shattering

was resolved in silent tears -

during which You held me

close to You and Your

holy heart.

This should have ruined my day,

beyond the shadow of a doubt

left me in SHAMBLES

wanting only to be alone.

But here I am, Lord,

smiling, laughing,

eating pancakes on this

maiden voyage.

I praise Your Name,

sweet Daddy who loves me,

for picking me up and

making me stronger,

making me more.

I love You.

I love you both.

Aila

Hi. My name is Aila, and I'm scared to death.

Not a bad scared. More like a: "......... WHOA" that has pierced me as far and deep as anything can. Let me explain.

You may have seen my face before under a different name - Courtney. Well, she died. THANK GOD. She was so uncertain, so fearful. She hid from everything and everyone. She could not discern truth from what she heard. She had no love of people. She did not know who she was, what she was doing, or where she was going. She was shattered. She hurt. She could not weep for someone else. Her preoccupation was only with herself. She fought for nothing. She fell for anything. She was a prisoner. She was weak, hopeless, isolated. She was desperately lonely. She was purposeless.

She no longer exists.

It took about a year and a half for her to diminish, but she is gone. Nothing that she was remains - save her likeness, which I bear.

But my name is Aila. And don't you forget that. I am nothing like her. And my life is about to change drastically.

I am about to move out of my parents house for the first time in over 19 years. Granted, I'm not moving far, and I will not be on my own. But I will still be out. Away from certain brands of negativity that sometimes seem to stifle me, away from a set of opinions I've always lived with that aren't mine. Away from the safety net of my parents' provision, away from the comfort of having someone else make the hard decisions and sacrifices that I would just rather not think about. I am moving into a giant building with more than 30 other individuals.

PS - I'm definitely an INTROVERT.

And I really really really don't want to be that kid - you know the one. The person everyone wishes would get kicked out, or would quit early. The person no one invites to do anything because they're tired of dealing with them. The annoying roommate. The one intern left outside the community because no one likes them. That kid.

I am also painfully aware that I am walking into a community with set groups. It's not nearly as bad as other groups that I've seen - and struggled in. But it's there. There's that one group where everyone hangs out together allllll the tiiiiiime. They have their little inside jokes, and I'm pretty sure they even have a name for themselves now. There's the another circle of people who have known each other since forever. There's groups of guys that are all into sports and that's the glue that keeps their posse together. There are girls who have already chosen their best friends.

Awesome.

I love that they all have such strong little families. Really, I do. I love that they don't compete with each other, that the groups mix and have fun, that nothing is exclusive. But the ghost of Courtney's past whispers sometimes....

However, I suppose if no group adopts me and no new group is formed, I will remain as I am. I have always been somewhat of a loner.

Time to remember the moment I knew I needed a new name:

It's been a month ago today. The leadership retreat. She said the words I needed to hear. She spoke feverishly over and over again. "You belong. You belong. You belong. You belong..." I broke like I have never broken before. It was the last wall. I lay on the floor, crumpled, crying my eyes out. I don't cry in front of people. But there I was. And it was beautiful.

I asked to be shown who I was.

"Your name is Strength,

your essence is Love,

your breath is Courage,

your shadow is Restoration."

"You connect the unconnectables."

[guess He didn't feel like speaking in plain language?]

And everything changed. The last bit of Courtney died in that moment, and a new name was put on my heart.

Aila (eye-la) means "light-bearer; from the strong place"

I've come to understand in this last month just how powerful and fall-reaching - how unconditional - real love for another person is. I didn't know change like this was possible. How crazy is it that when I am still, when I am working with my hands and no concentration is required, I'm not thinking about Aila? I'm not worried about what my hair looks like, what someone else is thinking of me, what cool thing that just happened that made me happy [Courtney loved to relive moments over and over]. I think about my XL Group girls. I think about my best friends. I pray for them constantly, all the time. I think about my family in Christ [who, incidentally, are those people in all those little groups that the ghost of Courtney whispers about]. I think about what I can do for them. I realized it the other day - I love people. I'm patient enough to put up with all different brands of crap, and hard-headed enough to refuse to give up on anyone, no matter how retarded they [think they] are.

I've never loved anyone before. Not like this, anyway.

I love them so much, I bleed for them. I cried for my Loves this morning because I know they are broken, they are hurting. Loves whose families are falling apart, Loves who are fearing great change, Loves who are isolating themselves again [and pushing me away], Loves who haven't got a clue. I am a warrior in the front lines of these battles. I wouldn't change that for the world! Why? Because I love these people. I love them with everything I have.

The hard part was giving it back to God, to refuse to worry. Worry changes nothing, and prevents me from enjoying the life I've been so infinitely blessed with. It's my natural inclination, though. So I did it - I gave it back. Not my battle. It's His. Because I love them, and now I can break anew when they call me or text me or facebook me with new pain; it won't overwhelm me.

Once upon a time, Courtney was told she was not a nice person, that people couldn't possibly like her. She was told she was overwhelmingly selfish, and mean. She was told that God would not want her to do things for Him, would not want to use her. She was told she would never make it to where she was aiming for. She was told she was responsible for other people's pain. She was told she was ugly. She was told she was stupid. She was fed all sorts of horrible, nasty lies from all different people - not all of whom meant to cause her harm.

It's amazing how the truth didn't just set her free - it released Aila, an entirely new life.

I was reading a friend's blog today, and was struck hard in the place where I write [there is a cavity where my mind, heart, and ink overlap] by his last words. I would like to steal his ending because I just loved it, it gave me goosebumps, and just because I can:

"... you can't un-jump a cliff. Pray for me."

The Unrest

Welcome to the

Unrest,

to true

selfless motherhood,

to Love for another that's

REAL.

Welcome to the

Unrest,

where your heart

walks around

outside your body,

and your preoccupation

does not begin with

'me', 'myself' or 'I'.

Welcome to the

Unrest,

to abandoning your

excuses,

to sacrificing everything,

to giving it

ALL.

Welcome to the

Unrest,

where the rewards are

greater than you

ever imagined,

and the chance you have

to touch the world,

is the chance

YOU TAKE.

Call Me Love

Call me

Love,

for that's all I

am,

all I

know,

all I

see.

Call me

Love,

change my

name,

because I

can't escape it,

nothing can

break it.

Call me

Love,

for that's all

that matters,

all anyone

wants,

all I have

to give.

Call me

Love.

Untitled Nightmare

It's dark and
haunting,
ripping through
the peace.
The shells of colors
stand as ghosts:
whithered
and dead,
having bled to death
in the saturation
of destruction.

Open up.
Light floods the
scene of
smoking wreckage and
shatter pieces of
what
was.

Ready or Not

There is so much

LIFE

in beginnings,

so much

POTENTIAL;

if it can be

IMAGINED,

then it can

BE.

I sit and stare

at this new beginning,

and a

MILLION THOUGHTS

flood my mind.

Thoughts of you,

thoughts of me,

thoughts of God,

thoughts of color,

thoughts of friendships,

thoughts of adventure,

thoughts of risks,

thoughts of growth,

thoughts of challenges.

Dear Next Ten Months Of My Life:

ready or not,

HERE

I

COME.

Please Will You Hurry Up

Have I mentioned to you

lately

how completely and utterly

DISTRACTING

you are?!

You have infiltrated

my thoughts

and I can't seem

to remove your

name and face

from the very front

of my mind.

You have got me thinking

all sorts

of things,

and have disrupted my

get-through-the-day attitude;

every thought of you

is punctuated with a

smile.

Dear My Life:

please will you

HURRY UP.

Whispers of Love

Breathe, Darling;

don't take your eyes off Me.

My love is

enough.

Choose trust,

Sweet One,

choose rest;

everything is

already

taken care of.

Smile, My Beauty;

I delight in you.

Nothing makes Me happier

than calling you

My own.

Hold still,

My Love;

I will wrap
My arms around you,

give you strength

give you hope

give you reasons

NOT to give up.

Obey Me,

Precious Child;

I want and know

what's best.

Let it go,

and be infinitely blessed.

You're Mine.

Don't Be Angry, My Dear

I am only motivated

by love,

My Dear;

it is only because

I CARE.

Nothing you

do or say

will alter that,

will take it away,

will change my mind.

My love for you is

unconditional,

you see.

So,

My Dear,

don't be angry

with me

for simply wanting for you

what's best;

it only makes me

want it

MORE.

Such A Time As This

In sheer faith,

I fell on my face,

praying for you

all night long.

I wept

and begged

and poured out my heart

through the watches

of the night.

I have risen

to my feet again,

head held high,

FEARLESS.

I am ready to do

whatever

deliverance demands;

I have come to my position

for such a time as this.

My Love

You have a lot

to lose,

My Love.

Please don't take

the risk.

I would absolutely

hate to see

your life after it

self-destructs.

You have a lot

to lose,

My Love.

You may think

I'm farther away

but I'm not

- I remain at your side -

it's you who's

turning away;

and both of us that

changed - every single day.

You have a lot

to lose,

My Love.

But if you choose

not to fight this,

and succumb to

your own destruction,

then I've lost you already

- which is too bad because

you will

ALWAYS

have my heart.

Opposites

I guess I just

forgot

that we are

opposites.

That wasn't the answer

I wanted -

but it was very

YOU.

Sometimes our balance

is very comforting;

sometimes,

not so much.

But I don't

CLASH

like you do

[of course not -

I am your opposite],

I simply

BREAK

against whoever I have

collided with,

and change to

meet their needs.

But when it's

ME

with the need,

I can't really

compromise.

Distraction

The numbers on the clock

burn into me;

I haven't heard

a word.

I sigh and tell myself

a million little stories

to excuse the weighty

absence.

The pain in my body

is a constant ache,

with sharp turns

every now and again.

But the distraction I seek

does not seek me,

so what else can

be said for it?

The Way I Planned

When I think of

you

the time passes far more

s l o w l y.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

Nothing I ever

plan on

ever turns out

the way I planned.

Car Wreck

I couldn't comprehend -

shards of thoughts -

jerking motion -

crunching crumble -

chunks of plastic -

pain.

This isn't happening.

Trapped -

doors won't open -

crawling out the window -

can't think straight -

frantic phone calls -

911.

This can't be right.

Red and blue lights -

tears and shaking -

horror -

lost little girl [oh wait, I'm a grown up?] -

men with badges and clipboards -

sweltering, dripping heat.

This isn't real.

Deafening noise -

please just hold me -

goggling passersby -

adrenaline and fear -

pretending to be fine -

hugging strangers.

This can't be me.

Worry

There is no certainty

like uncertainty.

The 100% expectation

of the unexpected

is an undeniable commitment

to the debatably noncommittal:

the simple complications.

Worry is a tangle of

STATIC

in your brain.

My Name is Strength

I will hide my face

no longer,

for MY name is

STRENGTH.

I will not be

overcome with fear,

for MY essence is

LOVE.

I cannot breathe

doubts and questions,

for MY breath is

COURAGE.

I will not linger

where the sun doesn't shine,

for MY shadow is

RESTORATION.

This is who I am.

This is what I am called.

I am powerful.

I am made beautiful.

I have been chosen.

I am loved.

I will hide my face

no longer,

for MY name is

STRENGTH.

Your Anger

I am left

QUAKING

in the face of your

anger.

My hands are shaking

- I can't hold a pen,

I can't even write -

and my stomach is rolled up

with fear.

I beg you not to

hurt me,

not to

crush me.

You're the only one

who can.

Please don't!

Have mercy!

I have little value

when I have been

shattered.

I'd like to

remind you

that my heart is

yours alone

to break.

So please don't use

such angry words.

I'm fragile.

My heart cracked a little -

did you see?

You have enough of me

to rip me to

SHREDS

in ten seconds flat.

I don't stay angry

but a second.

However, I could stay

sad

hurt

lonely,

for a very long time.

Refusal

I refuse to let my life

come crashing down

around me,

simply because the

color of the sky,

the temperature of the sun,

and the cycle of the moon

just changed.

I retreated to the place

I always go to

HIDE,

and I find I

can't cry.

I'm not sure if

I'm okay,

but I know

-someday-

I will be.

Upside-Down

My world

so recently right-side-up

is upside-down,

again.

With my feet glued to the now-ceiling,

the blood rushes

to my head;

I try not to think,

try not to scream.

I don't understand,

yet it makes

perfect sense.

My heart is pumping as

emotions are changing.

With growing horror

I wonder:

If I close my eyes

and let myself

FALL

in this upside-down world,

do I fall down,

or fall up?

It's Just Too Bad

It's just too bad.

Things never go as planned.

Funny how people

who seem to be

totally clueless

sometimes give the best advice;

ironic that they can't simply

follow it.

It's just too bad.

A beautiful dream

becomes a

less-than-shining moment,

and then fades into a

distant, disappointed memory.

Epic.

Fail.

It's just too bad.

Things that seem

too good to be true,

usually are.

Separating illusion and reality

is a foggy drive

in the middle of a

drizzle at midnight

- with four flat tires.

It's just too bad.

Indifference

I can't afford to

answer you.

I'm afraid,

you see,

that otherwise you won't realize

the crazy power-pain of

INDIFFERENCE.

Pain brings me to

defiance,

which leads me to more

pain,

until someone breaks the cycle.

SO HERE WE ARE.

What will you

DO

about it?

Marked

I've forever been marked.

It's in my blood,

it's more permanent than my skin,

it's overtaken my heart,

it's a constant pull.

It's YOU.

I can't help it -

when you're away,

I ache for you.

Even if it's just the

quietness

of riding in your truck

at night, holding hands,

saying nothing, soaking in

the moment.

It has overpowered me

- YOU have overpowered me;

I never imagined the

FORCE

in falling in love.

It would most certainly
break me down

- dissolve me -

if it wasn't so busy

building me up.

Nasty Little Voice

There is a

nasty little voice

inside my head

that whispers

"Watch your step,

or he'll be gone!"

Sometimes,

it doesn't just whisper, it

SCREAMS

that I'm not worth it,

we won't make it,

you'll get bored.

It takes a hold of me,

and pours in:

"See her? She's better than you."

"Remember when you said/

did that? STUPID!"

"He'll be angry when you

tell him about that."

"You always mess up. And

You'll screw this up too."

Round and round.

Louder and louder.

Until I can't take it anymore.

I demand for

SILENCE,

and quake in the

absence of voices.

With shaking hands,

I reach for truth,

and uncover a

reality

that allows LIFE.

Rain

Rain falls,

cutting through the sky,

reviving what is

DEAD

on the ground.

Oh rain.

Please come closer.

Fall on ME.

I am always looking

to be made

new.

Dark Clouds

Funny now

sometimes

Dark Clouds

don't scare me.

I wish I

ALWAYS

refused to

be intimidated.

A Little Overwhelmed

On Sunday,

I give it all.

Nothing is big,

compared to You,

the God who holds

EVERYTHING

in His hands.

But it's Monday,

again,

and I'm definitely

freaking out.

God,

do You

REALIZE

what You've asked me to do?

I have

A MILLION

"what if"s

for You to tell me about.

I'M FEELING

A LITTLE

OVERWHELMED.

The Middle Seat

THE MIDDLE SEAT.

OH

how I missed

the middle seat!

I dreamed of being

back in that spot

for many days,

and many nights.

The middle seat.

I love riding there.

You are so much

CLOSER.

The memories I

have there are

beyond

beautiful.

The middle seat.

You are driving,

music is playing,

my heart is full.

You wrap your arm

around me

and I wonder if

life can get any better.

Fight For Me

I want to be

FOUGHT FOR.

Tell me I'm

WORTH IT.

Tell me it's

ME OR NO ONE.

Fight for me!

Don't lay down and

let me go.

I may

PRETEND

it's not what I want,

but honestly...

I NEED that.

Great Promises

I wish.

But nothing changes.

There is so much

BEAUTY

in where I want

to be.

I understand.

But it's not easy.

Things

worth having,

are worth

FIGHTING FOR.

I struggle.

But there is hope.

I cling to

GREAT PROMISES

for what my future

will hold.

A Second Too Late

What is this?

A giant swirling of

NOTHING

is chipping my bones,

crushing my thoughts,

attacking my well-being.

I've been swept up

into the turning and twisting.

I reach for things

to steady me,

to pull me out,

as I come around

- but I always grab for them

a SECOND too late.

Subtle Yet Paramount

I can't make a decision

on what physical part of you

is my favorite.

When you hold me,

it is your chest-

safe, warm and strong.

When you touch me,

it is your hands.

When you walk toward me,

it is your legs.

When I have just left you,

it is your smell -

still trapped in my hair and clothes.

When we talk,

it is your voice.

When you text me,

it is your fingers.

And when we are

completely apart,

it is your heartbeat

for keeping you alive -

a most subtle

yet paramount sound.

Identity Theft

YOU KNOW WHAT:

I'm sick of this.

And I'm

DONE

with this

IDENTITY THEFT.

I don't have to

fix all my problems myself.

I don't need

your approval

on everything I dream of doing.

I'm not

alone in my struggles.

I haven't been

abandoned or forgotten.

I AM a

WARRIOR PRINCESS.

I AM a

CONQUEROR.

I AM

PROVIDED FOR.

I AM a

CHILD OF GOD.

So let's

DO THIS.

Suckage

You know your life

is sucking pretty bad

when you wake up

on time,

remember what's been happening,

think

"UGH.

I DO NOT want

to deal with this day!"

and go back to sleep.

So now I'm

running late,

too.

Flirting with Disaster

Impulsive things.

Only when I am

greatly frustrated

do I SEEK OUT

things to shock,

to thrill,

to flirt with disaster.

Abandoning caution,

I reach for the

unpredictable

in horrid hopes of

an EXPLOSION.

Labored Waiting

It was a beautiful tangle of

US.

You and I.

Together,

alone,

dripping with milky moonlight,

caressed by gentle wind,

enveloped in a hushed world.

Moments of

wonderful completeness

became the

masterpiece

of three and a half tortured months

of labored waiting,

longing to be

in your arms

again.

Oh my HEART!

Did you see it?

Did you hear it?

Just then?

It grew,

it came alive,

it was singing.

I was in your arms -

safe

warm

happy.

The pieces always seem to

come together

when I'm there.

And now I'll

dream of you,

as soon as I

turn out the light.

Because your scent

is covering me,

and I still feel

the tracks your hands made.

Dark Green Handprints

The smell of your skin

is clinging to my flesh,

my hair,

my clothes.

I wish I really was purple,

and you really were green.

And then,

every time we

touch each other,

we would leave traces

in the form of

swapping

colors.

Mainly,

I just adore the thought

of your dark green handprints

on my body.

Slow Start

Slow start.

I'm dragging my feet this morning,

as if my failure to

change out of my pajamas

will somehow delay

the moment I must

figure it all out.

What if I simply

refuse to make

major decisions?

That could be

good for me.

One Hundred Million Things

One hundred million things

that I wanted to say

flashed through my brain

from when I began to

slide out of the seat

until my feet

hit the ground.

I turned to

look at you,

opened my mouth -

but nothing came out.

So I gave you an

almost-smile,

shut the door,

and turned away;

I knew my eyes

were sad.

Theories of Identification

I think I view my life

through too many

lenses:

what was

what could have been

what I wish it was

what it is

what I distort it to be

what I wish it could be

what I hope it will be some day

what I suspect it will be

what they tell me to expect

So many lenses!

Nothing is in

focus,

anymore.

Large

blurry

shapeless

elements

with too many

theories

of identification.

Get Gone

Maybe I am a

coward.

Is it lack of bravery that

causes people to run?

Because my feet are

itching to get gone,

just like they

always do

the moment I have

reason to

fear.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I DON'T

KNOW.

I hope I find

patience in abundance,

because I am perhaps

the most skiddish

of creatures.

Gulf

There is a

gulf

yawning

wide

between us.

It emits a

startling silence

and my heart

cowers before its

depth.

I had not realized just how

far away

I had hidden myself

from this

until I tried to

cross the distance

last night.

Assault of Wordage

Tides of

conflicting

words

are assaulting me:

too much to write.

Pieces of poems are surging angrily

beneath my skin,

searching for an opening.

I would give in

if they would line up

and stand in order.

But in my

exhaustion,

no such luck.

Extreme Concentration

I'm messing up

my hair, again,

and biting my

bottom lip;

you know what

THAT means:

extreme concentration.

But I've got

nothin.

Perhaps my life will

make more sense

after I've slept on

the impossibilities.

Unlock Me

For months

my words were blocked,

constricted,

evaporating before collection.

It's a terrible thing

to be a writer who is

having difficulties writing.

The words came so

S

L

O

W

L

Y

.

Like scraping the dew

off of flower petals

with a toothpick

and trying to fill

a milk jug with the liquid.

Torture.

But then you reappeared -

words stream from me

like waterfalls.

I can't help it.

You unlock me.

Caterpillar Feet

All around me

the world is swirling with

color and beauty and sound

and discovery.

So many things to

write about,

to capture.

Why must I be

wrapped up

in such trivial things as

turning in homework,

finding a job,

cleaning the house,

when there is

SO MUCH

to be in awe of?

I suppose if all I did was

marvel at the wonders

of this world,

it would lose its

novelty

and I would be left with

nothing.

All the same.

I wish I had an entire day

to simply contemplate

caterpillar feet.

He Isn't You

I saw you leave.

You didn't even

LOOK

at me.

I'm sorry.

But listen -

you said

we were just friends,

so my revelation

shouldn't have hurt you.

Clearly I was right

in thinking

there was more.

I never meant to

cause you pain.

Press close to

The Healer,

and be free of me.

There can only be

one,

and he isn't you.

Horror

I'm speaking in

poems, now.

I can't help it.

The thin membrane between

Courtney-person

and

Courtney-writer

has been pierced with

haunting images.

I wish that I could

weep for them,

but my heart doesn't know how.

And, anyway,

salt-water words

can't heal

ALL

things...

The horror of it

somehow fascinates me.

Does that mean I'm a

monster?

I don't think so.

My soul has felt

much destruction;

I think sometimes it's

nice to know

I'm not alone with

scars.

A Year Ago

Funny,

how life works out.

If you had told me

a year ago

that all of

THIS

would happen to me,

I would have sworn you were

insane.

My whole life has changed.

Who I am has changed.

A YEAR AGO:

I had long hair, and still dyed it dark.

I was talking to that boy and he said he wanted to marry me some day (HA!).

I was working as a nanny and hating it.

I was still at Crestview.

I had heard Celebration was a cult and to avoid it at all costs. :) hahaha

I was wishing I was leaving.

I hadn't yet lost my high school friends.

My vision for my future looked very different.

I still had braces

I had a crappy, broken flip-phone.

I didn't have a blog.

I hadn't fallen in love with worship music.

I didn't know what love was - I just thought I did.

I didn't appreciate my Bible as being ALIVE and as being a source of LIFE.

I had never been on a mission trip.

The word "serve" scared me.

I was pretty sure I would NEVER talk to a homeless person.

I hadn't discovered that it was VITAMIN C I was allergic to.

I was only vaguely away of what prayer was and completely blind to the POWER behind it.

Purple and yellow weren't my favorite colors yet.

I had never heard of 'Toms Shoes'.

I didn't know I wrote prose; I had already made up my own name for that kind of writing.

Bucket lists weren't all that important.

I had never been in a cemetery.

I had never been bitten by an amphibian that weighs less than half an ounce and can't hurt me (yet I jump every time anyway).

I had never been to Austin - the downtown fun part.

I had never been anywhere and thought "There are no adults here" only to realize MY FRIENDS AND I *ARE* ADULTS.

I had never been skydiving.

I hadn't met the most distracting person in creation.

I couldn't see how immature I was.

Seeking God's face - and enjoying it - was a new concept.

I had never signed up to help in a church on a regular basis because I wanted to.

I hadn't experienced full healing and restoration.

I didn't know what sacrifice was.

I didn't have a clue what real surrender was.

I had never literally screamed at God.

I didn't know it was possible to dream of the same face every night for months.

I had never written on my mirror.

I didn't understand what the body of Christ was supposed to be.

Promise Me

Today

I'm writing an essay for class.

It's about

you.

But I

WON'T

let you read it

until you

promise me

you will

NOT

get a motorcycle.

Rar.

Yours

I still feel it.

Your hand.

On my back.

Like litte secret sparkles

of warmth

that are keeping me alive

in a cold world.

Confession:

it didn't tickle.

I just liked it far too much.

Seeing you

is like seeing

my heart

walk around outside my body.

Such a strange feeling,

that something as personal and

sacred

as my heart

is no longer mine,

no longer in my keeping,

no longer guarded by

my rib cage.

You are so much

a part of me,

I cannot remember

how it felt to be alive

before I fell in love with you.

Dear Distance

And once again,

you disappeared.

You have sunk back down into the

unknown

also known as the

undisclosed

because I haven't a clue

what you've been up to

or where you've been

or what you've been thinking.

Dear Distance:

I hate you.

Moving Forward

Last night we

[me and a he that wasn't you]

talked about

the house,

Marcello.

I guess I never

mourned

that memory,

because for 10 minutes after

I sobbed great

gut-wrenching cries

that sound like what's happening:

my heart being ripped in two.

I screamed and cried

and blew a kiss to Marcello

and drove a little recklessly

[mostly just because

you told me not to].

Then I quieted down and

PRAISED THE GOD

WHO GIVES AND

TAKES AWAY,

for He is GOOD,

He is above ALL THINGS,

and His LOVE

endures forever.